


Scents and Sensibility

by Emerald Embers (emeraldembers)



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Digital Devil Saga
Genre: Breathplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-10
Updated: 2010-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-08 20:29:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldembers/pseuds/Emerald%20Embers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all foreplay to him now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scents and Sensibility

Given Varin's obsession with control, Bat often wondered why the man would let him play certain games; admittedly Bat let the illusion of power rest in Varin's hands, gave him safe-words and safe-gestures, but there was no denying that for a moment in bed everything was in Bat's hands. If he killed Varin during their activities, he would no longer have to deal with less than idle threats of death should Bat's usefulness run out - but in the same way Varin kept him alive to be useful, he was quite content to use the Brute's leader in a similar way. He needed Varin's abilities and he needed a leader he could control - Jinana had stopped listening to him, Mick had always been a means to an end... the Embryon's leader would never prove useful to the same degree as the others had.

It was not enough to wait around in the Brute's base, settling down until fate came to them; not enough to pick off stray tribe members to satisfy his hunger. Camazotz tended to stay quiet most of the time but he still felt restless when left to his own devices, and toying with his knives no longer felt like enough. Even if Camazotz was quiet his senses weren't, and Bat _smelled_ things.

It had been enough of a shock to his system when he first started to feel; to have his senses enhance those feelings, interacting with them, was disorienting, near maddening. And he could smell things others couldn't, could smell the differences in people's sweat - and some instinct let him know what the differences meant. He'd smelled fear on Mick and on his prey, smelled attraction on that pink-haired bitch when looking at his Jinana. On Varin he'd smelled something else, something angry and demanding, a fury he could taste - and he'd smelled something else when he'd sat with splayed legs on Varin's desk, something he liked. Something that led to ripped fishnets, dented armour, and lurid bite marks on his thighs.

It had been entertaining enough at first just fitting their bodies together, working out combinations of tongues and cocks and asses, but Bat had learnt swiftly enough how his skills did not include patience. He wanted more, he wanted excitement and satiation; he wanted it _now_. Varin would not let him bring knives to bed but he let Bat have other concessions.

Bat knelt over Varin's hips, riding the Brute's cock, his nails at first digging into the thighs he straddled. Varin had good legs, strong legs; such a pity that the Embryon's strategist was as icy as their leader because those were thighs begging for sex. Riding was enough to start but fucking felt more like foreplay since Varin had allowed him this - letting him lean forward, moving his hands to drag nails up abdomen, chest, collar to settle at the neck, waiting at first for that small spike, that brief whiff of fear, and then he would tighten his hands and smell the struggle, smell the sweat of exertion and involuntary panic as he dug his thumbs in just so - just enough to obstruct, not to crush. Varin couldn't help himself, cock twitching inside Bat as if it too panicked with the lack of oxygen, and Bat rode it hard now that he could, now that his hands forced Varin to hold out.

Always, always there was that temptation to squeeze harder. To squeeze that little bit further - to listen to Camazotz whispering _tear his fucking throat out_. Wouldn't be the first time, after all, that he'd fed on his leader.

But Varin had his uses, and the near explosive reaction when Bat let go and the blood in Varin's body rushed back to whatever it was meant to be doing was always worth waiting on. Varin's orgasm would be like vengeance, violent and furious, his hands gripping Bat's ass tight enough to bruise as he came, literally _growling_ when Bat returned the favour and spilt all over the Brute's chest.

Even sated, Bat couldn't entirely escape the reactions he had to Varin's smell. He didn't want to roll over and sleep, nor did he want to get up and clean off. He wanted to lick and bite and devour, wanted to taste that scent. More than any of the others whose flesh he had tasted or longed to taste - Varin he would savour, would strip clean and preserve as long as he could. Too much to waste on one meal.

Varin couldn't smell like he could - lacked senses of that strength - but Bat had a feeling that he knew why Varin covered him with bite marks. They each had uses for each other alive as things stood, but when that usefulness reached its end, they both knew what their final use would be.

Varin would be a meal worth the waiting.

.

The End


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